


Nobody Wants to Kiss Bernie

by She5los



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: And we were both crested, Betaing, But what if..., F/M, Just kidding haha, Kissing, What if we kissed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22666699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She5los/pseuds/She5los
Summary: “Nobody wants to kiss Bernie,” she said, speaking of herself like she was a character in one of her stories.  She was smiling a little, nervously.  What did Sylvain expect?  He was tall and handsome and charming, and she was an unattractive shut-in who could barely talk to people.“Sylvain wants to kiss Bernie,” he said, frowning.She did laugh at that.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 22
Kudos: 147





	Nobody Wants to Kiss Bernie

**Author's Note:**

> I got on the bandwagon of that cute prompt that's been going around! Hope you like it!
> 
> My friend Sel said "stockingfeet" is such an old word I should probably define it. It's when you're wearing your stockings, instead of having your feet in shoes. (It also applies when you're wearing socks.)

Sylvain was almost like a normal fixture in her room.

She’d invited it on herself, really. After he’d read her wish fulfilment story about a young lady who was so much cooler than her standing up to her horrible father, they’d started a sort of two-person writing salon that consisted of Sylvain being allowed to read her work first and Bernadetta getting the benefits of his copy-editing, brainstorming, word recall, and opinion-giving skills. They did it in a private study room in the library for a while, but it was hard for Bernie to get to the library sometimes, and at some point, Sylvain had come to check on her, and then he’d let himself in to clean up her floor and her desk and throw her laundry in the hamper, and then one time he’d hidden from a vengeful girlfriend by camping out there for half a day (and Bernie had done him the service of telling him when the coast was clear, partly so he’d leave), and now he just… appeared sometimes, and Bernadetta had stopped minding quite so much.

He was lying backwards on her bed, one stockingfoot on each of the walls her bed was nestled against, her pillow over his stomach, her manuscript in his hands. She was sitting, like a regular person, at her desk as she wrote more of her new romance.

“Hey, uh. Not to sound stuck up or anything, but… Have you ever been kissed?” he piped up, and when Bernie looked over at him, her pages were still lifted above his head, but his face was turned to her.

Bernie smiled. The concept was laughable. “Of course not,” she said. “Did I really write it so badly?”

There was a great amount of creaking and shifting as she turned back to her work. Presumably, Sylvain was a bit more upright when he asked, “It’s not terrible. Why is that an ‘of course’?”

She looked at him again. He was upright, reclining with his weight on his elbow. “Nobody wants to kiss Bernie,” she said, speaking of herself like she was a character in one of her stories. She was smiling a little, nervously. What did Sylvain expect? He was tall and handsome and charming, and she was an unattractive shut-in who could barely talk to people.

“Sylvain wants to kiss Bernie,” he said, frowning.

She did laugh at that.

“Sylvain wants to kiss everyone,” she reminded him, returning her attention to her desk. “If you don’t have any suggestions, just mark it and I’ll take a look at it later.”

Just a few months ago, she would have taken his words as a threat instead of the joke they obviously were. She was really coming into herself at the Academy.

“That’s not true,” her friend whined. “I don’t want to kiss… Seteth!”

Bernie couldn’t help giggling at that. She turned toward him, ready to tell him off just as soon as she stopped laughing, but he continued: “Ooh, man, or that Vestra guy? He gives my heebies the jeebies; I think, if you kiss him, you turn into a toad.”

“Like a fairy tale?” Bernie asked. “Do you come back as a prince, or just a margrave?”

“A margrave, of course,” Sylvain said, smiling easily. “Hmmm, what else wouldn’t I kiss?”

“A horse,” Bernie suggested.

“Well, not on the mouth,” he said. “On the nose, maybe. If he’s been good. But I definitely wouldn’t kiss… Ummmm…. A fish!”

They started coming up with sillier and sillier things for Sylvain to not want to kiss: a scarecrow was dismissed for being "too scratchy," an elephant was dismissed because "it would be too hard to reach its mouth, Bernie; that's just physics," and the helm of the Death Knight was dismissed offhand, doubly so if the Death Knight was wearing it at the time.

"You see? All sorts of things I wouldn't kiss, but you are certainly not among them," Sylvain said with an easy smile, and Bernie realized she'd forgotten the point of their conversation.

"I… You don't have to keep up the pretense," Bernie told him. "In fact, if you keep this up, I will have to ask you to leave my room."

"Why do you think I'm joking?" Sylvain asked, and he sounded serious enough that Bernie looked up.

He looked… hurt, a bit, and very solemn, like he didn't even think he could sell one of his usual fake smiles.

"Well, look at us," Bernie said. It was so obvious. "You all handsome and outgoing, and me plain and fearful…"

Sylvain's whole body tensed. Bernie heard her covers shift under him as his legs went rigid. "Who calls you plain?" he asked. "Do they go here? I'll challenge them for you."

"It isn't funny anymore," Bernie snapped. "It was cute for a minute."

"Wait, you think I'm handsome?" Sylvain asked. "Me? Really? You're sure?"

Bernie rolled her eyes and made sure he saw.

"No joke, completely sincere here, I would've pegged you for the pretty one, between the two of us," Sylvain told her. "You're all dainty, with your nice complexion and your big doe eyes, and then I'm just… I dunno. Normal."

"But no one wants to kiss Bernie," she reminded him. "And I think it's pretty clear that just about everybody wants to kiss Sylvain."

He finally sat upright, his legs hanging off the side of her bed like they were supposed to. "But does Bernie want to be kissed?" he asked. He went distinctly pink as he added, "Um… as many times as it takes to get that makeout scene down?"

Sylvain was usually all empty bravado or neutral statements of fact. Bernie wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look bashful before.

And,  _ oh,  _ she thought.  _ Oh, he just confessed his… something. _

And that deserved an answer.

"I could try," she said, stuttering slightly. "I… think I would like to try, actually. I think I might like that very much." Beyond the doubt she felt, saying yes felt… good? She was 95% sure it felt good. She hadn't really had time to think about that question, so her feelings were taking a moment to come in.

Sylvain stood, and came toward her to reach for her hands. She stood under her own power as he pulled them just slightly toward him.

Then she was surrounded, one strong arm around her back and one hand threading its fingers into her hair from the base of her neck, not overbearing, just… confident. She tilted her face up to meet Sylvain's and their lips met.

They kissed gently like that for a few seconds and Bernie focused on everything she was feeling: the strong, solid arm around her; the feeling of their bodies pressed together; the way her neck craned so she could meet his lips. Then the hand on her head pulled harder and Sylvain leaned his face down farther and she forgot to think much at all.

"How was that?" Sylvain asked, smiling almost nervously, when he pulled away from her.

"I… think you should do it to me again," Bernie told him. "And often. And… and ask me to go to dinner with you." Was she being pushy? She was being too pushy. She needed to apologize--

"You want to go on a date with me?" Sylvain didn't look disappointed. He didn't look somber, like before. His whole face was distorted into a broad grin, much less dignified than his usual flirtatious smile, like he was actually excited. "Um-- I mean-- here I was, thinking you'd be way above that -- a nice, crested girl like you -- but, if you're offering, I… would be honored! Would you like to go out? I didn't know if you liked to go into town. What sorts of-- I am running my mouth."

Bernie smiled. She could think of a solution to that. "Maybe you should kiss me to stop yourself," she suggested.

And he did, and that beautiful pressure, the contact, the pure  _ affection _ of it all, was hers again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
